


Baby Doll

by Anonymous



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Body Worship, Bottom Richie Tozier, Dirty Talk, Finger Sucking, Lingerie, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, back at it with some, hello it's me again, i simply think richie tozier deserves to be called pretty, sam called it "the smuttiest yet also cutest shit ever", super light dom/sub undertones maybe?? just to be safe!, your resident "anonymous" smut dealer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Richie doesn’t really knowwhenhe started eyeing up the lingerie store next to his favourite Thai restaurant. It’s literally always been there—Sensuously Yours,the sign says in curly pink script—but he’d never reallynoticedit until, well. Maybe it was a few months ago. He’s never been inside before, but he sees it on a weekly basis (he really likes that restaurant), and suddenly, he’slookingat it.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 40
Kudos: 426
Collections: Anonymous





	Baby Doll

**Author's Note:**

> this is an OOOLD thing i wrote in 2016 and today i randomly rewrote it to be reddie in honour of [this art](https://twitter.com/hyxnabones/status/1257358473345499145?s=20) (somewhat nsfw!!) sam did. thank you so much. i will not take any further questions at this time. 
> 
> thanks to sam and gillian for the cheerleading!

Richie doesn’t really know _when_ he started eyeing up the lingerie store next to his favourite Thai restaurant. It’s literally always been there— _Sensuously Yours,_ the sign says in curly pink script—but he’d never really _noticed_ it until, well. Maybe it was a few months ago. He’s never been inside before, but he sees it on a weekly basis (he really likes that restaurant), and suddenly, he’s _looking_ at it. 

He doesn’t mean to get obsessed with the idea. It’s just that suddenly, he’s thinking about soft satin against his skin, and baby pink lace, and whatever that gauzy fabric is called fluttering around his sides, and things that lace up in the back with ribbons. And he’s thinking about Eddie (Richie’s boyfriend of one years, two months) seeing him and smiling and calling him pretty. Which is something that Richie did not know he ever wanted. But just last night he had a dream about it and it was very, _very_ nice. 

He definitely never means to go _inside._ But then it just so happens that Bev asks him to return a pair of underwear she brought from there in the wrong size, because there’s a one-week return policy and she’s working past closing time, and Richie walks in there already sweating. 

He tells himself he’s not going to buy anything, he’s just going to return the underwear and leave and not let himself be tempted. He has no reason to buy anything and he’s not even sure that he’s _into_ this and, and. He’s not going to do it. But then his gaze lingers on a lacy nightie for too long and the overly-helpful girl in the store asks him if he’s looking for something for his girlfriend. 

“Uh,” Richie says, and panics. “Yes.” 

So there he is, letting this chatty girl lead him all over the store, pointing out their most popular bras, their most comfortable panties, their most risque bustiers. Richie looks at them all and swallows hard. The prices are, frankly, exorbitant, and he can’t believe he’s actually looking at them, and thinking about them, thinking about _this._ This is ridiculous. He’s lost his mind. 

And then Richie blinks for just a second (he swears), and suddenly he’s at the register being handed a bag and forking over way more cash than he’d meant to spend. And he’d meant to spend _none._

He hides the bag in the back of his very messy closet. There’s a bunch of bags and boxes and shit back there, no one will ever notice it. And if he sometimes goes and peeks inside as his heart thumps madly against his chest, so what? He’s going to return it within the week. 

But then he doesn’t, and it’s too late. 

And he’s stuck with it. And he still keeps looking at it. And thinking about it. And having occasional dreams about it. 

And then he gets home from work one day and calls out to Eddie, who’d let himself in earlier, “Are you ready to watch that movie?”

“Oh, you’re back? Give me a few minutes. I’m looking for that one big sweater of yours. You need to clean out your closet, it’s a disaster.”

“I know,” Richie says, toeing off his shoes. “I keep meaning to do it, but then I just get too lazy.”

“Like, what are all these boxes? They’re just empty shoeboxes. Why do you have them?” There’s some rustling from the direction of his room, and Richie hears the crinkle of tissue paper. He freezes. “And what are in these bags?”

Richie bolts for his door, saying, “Oh, don’t— They’re just—”

He bursts into his room to see Eddie backing out of his closet with four old shopping bags in his hands—one with Richie’s high school awards, one with the pair of shoes he wore to a wedding two years ago, one with Christmas decorations in it, and one with a familiar pink logo on the front. He swallows hard. 

“Get rid of some of this garba—” Eddie stops, looks into the bags. “Is this a present?”

“Um, no,” Richie says, feeling his face heat up. “I mean. Yes.”

Eddie gives him a quizzical look, then plucks out the tissue paper. He stares inside. “Richie…?”

“I’m. Uh.” Richie gulps. 

Eddie puts the bags down slowly and lifts out something soft and deep red and flimsy. He holds it up, then looks at Richie. Richie knows he is not going to be fooling anyone, going by how hot and red his face feels. “Were you going to...wear it?” Eddie asks, his voice a little odd. 

“I don’t know,” Richie whispers, sweating. 

There’s a long, heavy pause, and then Eddie says, “Well, I hope it wasn’t supposed to be a surprise, because I think I ruined it.”

Richie’s stomach drops through the floor. Eddie isn’t laughing at him. He’s not even making it into a joke. He is taking this 100% seriously, and Richie is really, completely in love with his boyfriend.

“It wasn’t a surprise,” he murmurs, glancing up at Eddie and then at the floor, shuffling his feet embarrassedly. “I just...yeah.”

“Do you want to wear it?” Eddie asks, and when Richie glances at him again, he’s staring at Richie with intense eyes. 

Richie shrugs, face burning. 

“Richie. Do you want to wear it?”

“Kind of,” Richie says, so quietly that he’s not sure Eddie will hear him. He keeps his eyes on the floor. 

Eddie steps over the bags on the floor and walks up to him. He holds out Richie’s purchase. “Then go shower and put it on.”

Richie’s heart starts pounding.

***

He’s even more embarrassed when he has the lingerie on—a red thing the girl at the store called a “babydoll,” with a lacy bralette and sheer fabric that falls to Richie’s waist, paired with a scrap of lace masquerading as underwear that will do very little to hide anything the moment Richie gets aroused. He feels ridiculous as he puts it on, even though it fits better than expected, but then he looks at himself in the bathroom mirror and his cheeks redden, because he doesn’t look terrible. He actually...kind of likes it.

Richie’s not a small guy. He’s...actually a really big guy, just in general. He’s broad and wide and thick and soft pretty much all over. He’s not...he’s not exactly the kind of person the masses typically make lingerie for. It had taken him a while to get comfortable even with just...being naked in front of Eddie. And he’s gotten better at that, he _has,_ but it’s not like he’s suddenly a paragon of body positivity now. There are a lot of bits of himself that Richie doesn’t really...love, even if Eddie insists he _does._

But this is...it’s kind of a look, isn’t it? He twists from side to side in the mirror, watches how the fabric swishes across his skin, grazes the parts of him that stick out in a way that he doesn’t usually like. But it feels nice, and. It _looks_ nice. And the colour is honestly really striking, especially against Richie’s pale-ass skin, still pink from his shower. And Richie kind of...likes the way he fills it out. His dick is practically bursting out of the panties, which is unavoidable, but he likes that there’s a little something behind the bralette, that he has some of the curves these things were made for. 

His main reaction to seeing himself like this is still anxiety, but the fact that he experienced any kind of positive emotion at the sight of himself at all is honestly more than he hoped for. 

He stands there for a few seconds, running his hands through his hair and staring at his reflection, and then takes a deep breath and walks out. 

Eddie is still in his room, sitting on his heels on his bed in just a t-shirt and his boxers, flipping through Richie’s sudoku book, which he alternatingly uses to fall asleep out of boredom and hyperfixates on. He looks up when Richie comes in, and Richie almost flinches back, but Eddie just smiles, eyes dark as they sweep over him.

“Come here,” he says, voice low, and Richie shivers. “You look nice.”

Richie has to bite back a whimper, folding his arms self-consciously as he pads to the bed. Eddie pats the mattress next to him, putting his book down, and Richie sits. 

Eddie shifts to kneel beside him, curling the fingers of one hand into his damp hair and using the other to move Richie’s arms out of the way. He drags his eyes from Richie’s face downwards, slowly, until Richie’s feels like he’s on _fire._ “Very pretty, Richie Tozier,” Eddie says quietly, smiling as he leans in to kiss him on the mouth, then up along his jaw. 

Richie swallows thickly. “Do you—” His voice comes out hoarse. “Do you like it?”

Eddie hums in his ear. “I do.”

“Does it look good?” Richie presses, flushed hot. 

Eddie pulls back and smiles at him, and Richie resists the urge to cross his arms again. “You look sweet,” he says, eyes raking over Richie again. He hooks a finger in the elastic of his panties and tugs. “And sexy.”

Richie can barely breathe. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Eddie brushes a hand over his front, over his stomach covered in sheer fabric. “How long have you had this hidden away from me?”

Richie bites his tongue. “A while,” he hedges. “I thought— I don’t know. I wasn’t sure you’d like it.”

“I like anything with you in it,” Eddie says, fingers tripping back up to his chest, teasing at the edge of the bralette. “Even those fucking ugly shirts you always wear.”

Richie huffs a surprised laugh, and it helps shake loose some of his anxiety. He settles a little, something warm blooming in his stomach, knowing that this is Eddie, his Eddie, the same Eddie as always. Richie loves him so fucking much. 

“This is much cuter than those shirts,” Eddie says lightly, voice soft and warm and a little sultry. “And it was brave of you to put it on for me.”

Richie smiles helplessly, fiddling with the edge of the panties. “Aw, shucks Eds.”

Eddie smiles back, and leans in again to kiss him, one hand at his jaw and the other trailing over the soft fabric of the top, stroking up his side. He nips gently at Richie’s lip, and then hums and says, so softly Richie can only barely hear him, “I think you deserve a...reward.”

Richie goes hot, shivering, and Eddie pulls away to nod towards the headboard. “Sit there.”

Richie scrambles to follow instructions, sitting with his back against the headboard and his legs spread. Eddie moves much more slowly, smoothly, maneuvering himself in between Richie’s knees to kneel there. “The— The top might be hard to take off,” Richie blusters, heart rabbiting. “I had to tie it myself so I just knotted it.”

Eddie smiles. “Who says I’m going to take it off?”

Richie gulps, and Eddie leans forward to curl his hands in Richie’s hair, kissing him with the gentlest pressure. His voice is low when he says, “I was thinking maybe I’d fuck you with it still on, since you look so pretty in it, just for me.”

A high whine crawls out of Richie’s throat, and he scrabbles to hold onto Eddie’s hips, to ground himself. “What will you do?” he whispers, feeling his blush spread across his neck and chest. 

Eddie hums, kissing Richie’s chin, the underside of his jaw, slow movements of his lips and little flicks of his tongue. His hands stroke down Richie’s throat, across his shoulders, over the smooth fabric of his top, leaving trails of fire in their wake. “Well, first I was going to get you out of these,” he says, brushing one hand down Richie’s side to slip a fingertip under the elastic waistband of his panties. They stretch a little obscenely as Richie’s cock hardens. 

“And then what,” he gasps, curling his fingers in Eddie’s shirt. 

“And then I was thinking I’d spend some time getting my mouth all over you, since you put so much effort into wrapping yourself up so prettily for me.” Eddie drags a thumb under the strap of his top, down to his chest. 

Richie trembles against him. “And then?”

Eddie captures his mouth in a deeper kiss, licking into it in a way that feels _filthy,_ his tongue dragging against Richie’s, stealing the breath from his lungs. “And then I thought I’d bend you in half and fuck you nice and hard. How does that sound?”

Richie stops breathing. “Please,” he whispers, toes curling. 

Eddie presses their lips together again, and Richie can feel his smile. “Sure, baby.”

Eddie knows his way around Richie’s body. He kisses down his throat to his collarbones and sucks a mark there, running his palms up under the sheer fabric of Richie’s top to press into his stomach, gets two good handfuls of it and hums out his pleasure. He pulls the bralette away from his skin to lave over one nipple, making contented noises, and then sucks on it, makes Richie arch and moan, bites a mark around it. He noses his way across his chest, licks down the divot between his pecs, moves to nip at the inside of Richie’s bicep, where it’s sensitive. 

“Shit,” Richie breathes as Eddie kisses all over his body, down the center of his soft stomach and just over his belly button. He scratches over Richie’s back just hard enough to make him shudder, grabs at his thighs, at his ass. He slides down between Richie’s legs and pulls down the lacy underwear inch by inch, dragging the waistband over his achingly hard cock, and kisses along his thick, hairy thighs until they’re trembling. He whispers quiet words of praise, a soft litany of, “Look at you,” and “You’re gorgeous,” and “You look so pretty for me,” and “I’m going to fuck you so well.” 

“Eddie,” Richie moans, unable to bite back every whimper and sigh and whine before it slips out between his lips. “God, Eddie, please. Fuck, you’re so— You make me _so—_ Jesus Christ, _Eds,_ I love you so fucking much.”

Eddie reaches his ankles and slowly makes his way back up, nipping and licking, and the next time Richie makes a desperate sound, he asks, “Should I fuck you now?”

“Yes,” Richie whimpers. “Please.”

“No need to beg,” Eddie says lightly, trailing his fingertips up over his stomach to play with the ribbon on the front of his top. “You’ll get your reward.”

He already knows where the lube is, reaching into Richie’s bedside drawer and pulling it out as he encourages Richie to spread his legs wider. Swallowing hard, Richie slides down the bed a bit, and Eddie smiles at him as he pushes a pillow under his hips to give him easier access. Then Richie closes his eyes, forcing himself to relax, and keens softly as Eddie pushes two lubed fingers into him. 

Richie really likes fingering. He doesn’t get fucked all that often, but he asks Eddie to finger him often enough that the slide is easy and painless. Eddie’s hands are smaller than Richie’s, and his fingers are slender, but they’re clever as hell, and Richie whines as they curl and pump languidly, opening him up. 

“You like that, don’t you,” Eddie murmurs, mouthing at his throat. “You’d be ready for my cock already, but you love my fingers.”

“Yes,” Richie gasps, squirming as Eddie uses his thumb to rub along his perineum. 

“It feels good, doesn’t it? Me stretching you open like this. Getting you all slick and loose for me.”

Richie just chokes out a moan, curling his fingers in his own top. 

“Shhh, don’t rip your pretty outfit, baby. I want you to be able to wear it again.” Eddie uses his free hand to coax Richie’s fingers to loosen, still fingerfucking him insistently. “Is that enough now? Or do you want another one?”

“Another,” Richie groans out, and Eddie hums and pushes a third finger into him. 

“I should have known. You really love this part. The teasing and the stretching.”

Richie nods, hips tilting up uncontrollably. 

Eddie fingers him to the edge of insanity, pressing up against his prostate only occasionally. Richie whines and squirms and shakes, moaning when Eddie uses his free hand to play with his nipples under his top or tug at his hair. When he pushes two fingers into his mouth, Richie nearly chokes on his own arousal, sucking on them eagerly, sloppily, eyes fluttering shut as Eddie fingerfucks him from both ends. 

_God_ but it’s good, overwhelming in the best way, embarrassing in how easily it wrecks Richie. He can’t say anything like this, mouth full and Eddie’s fingers muffling the messy sounds he’s making, but he’d be incoherent anyway, his head fuzzy with how badly he wants, he wants… he doesn’t even know, he just _wants._ God, he’s so fucking horny, lapping at Eddie’s fingers as they press into his tongue, legs spread as Eddie fingers him indulgently, getting him so loose and wet. Richie licks around and between his fingers, making helpless sounds in his throat, drooling all over his chin, feeling desperate and slutty and incredible. Hew sucks on them lewdly, moans around them, shifts his hips to ride Eddie’s fingers at the same time.

Eventually, Eddie slides his fingers out of Richie’s mouth, trails them wetly down his stomach, over the mark he left over his hip. He doesn’t touch Richie’s cock, except for occasional teasing brushes of his wrist against it, and Richie feels like he’ll die if that doesn’t change soon. 

“Are you ready now?” Eddie asks, leaning in to bite at his mouth gently. “Do you want my cock now?”

“Yes,” Richie gasps. “Yes, please.”

“Then you better help me out of my clothes,” Eddie says, and Richie’s hands reach out before he even manages to force his eyes open. 

Eddie is naked in five seconds flat, smiling predatorily, and Richie spreads his legs wide in invitation as he slicks his cock up. “You look so good right now,” Eddie tells him, eyes moving over his body. “All dolled up and stretched and ready for me.”

“Eddie,” Richie chokes out, sucking in deep breaths as his boyfriend kneels between his knees and lifts his legs up. 

“Hold these up for me, babe, I want to be able to see you,” Eddie says, his voice nearly a purr. 

Richie moans and does as he’s asked, unable to stop watching Eddie as he gets in position. 

“Such long legs,” Eddie praises, nudging the head of his cock against Richie’s rim, leaning over him to brace himself with one hand next to his head. “So pretty. Just for me.”

“Yes,” Richie agrees, heart racing. And then Eddie pushes into him, all at once. 

They moan in unison, Eddie’s composure finally slipping as he squeezes his eyes shut and waits for Richie to adjust. Richie scrabbles at his back, biting back a whine of pleasure, loving the stretch of it, that initial intrusion and the way Eddie’s cock feels _just_ on this side of too big. He breathes through it, relishes it. And then he says, “Go, you can go.”

Eddie rolls his hips in small, shallow thrusts, and Richie knows how this goes. He’s getting Richie ready, loosening him up, getting him used to Eddie’s size. He’s not doing this for pleasure. Not yet. 

“Go, Eds, do it, you can fuck me,” he says, his cock dripping precome onto his top. 

“Are you ready?” Eddie grinds out, visibly forcing his eyes open to stare at him. 

“Yes, please, go,” Richie gasps out. 

So he does. True to his earlier promises, Eddie pulls out almost all the way and slams back in, fucking Richie _hard,_ making stars explode behind his eyes. Richie can’t help the, _“Ahhh!”_ that falls from his lips, wanton and loud, but Eddie doesn’t let up for a second once he’s started. His thrusts are powerful and precise, just absolutely fucking _railing him,_ pleasure lancing up Richie’s spine, and he can barely catch his breath. “Eds, god, fuck,” he chants, incoherent and writhing beneath him. 

Eddie is much more articulate, even as his voice breaks from the power of his thrusts. “God, Rich, you feel so fucking good. You’re so good for me, you’re so hot, you look so good. Fuck, you love my cock, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Richie chokes, shaking. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“You like it when I call you pretty, don’t you? You’re gorgeous.” Eddie presses his hips against the backs of Richie’s legs, pushes his cock deep inside him with every thrust. 

Richie moans in response, louder than he means to. 

Every time Richie gets fucked, he wonders why the fuck he doesn’t ask for it more often. It’s fucking _good,_ Eddie so deep inside him, filling him up. And Eddie is so strong, has fucking _core strength,_ and really knows how to use his hips. God, it kills Richie, the way he knows exactly how to destroy him, the way he knows how to make Richie fall apart. 

“Yes, Eddie, yes,” he groans, fingers slipping on his thighs, back arching. “God, you feel so good, you feel so good inside me.”

“Yeah? You like the way I feel?” Eddie dips down and kisses him messily, like he can’t help it. 

Richie nods the second he pulls away. “I want you to come in me.”

Eddie grins a little wolfishly. “Not yet, babe, _god,_ I want to wreck you. You look so sweet, Rich, I love you like this, makes me want to _ruin_ you.”

Richie moans helplessly, mouth hanging open as Eddie’s cock slides in and out of him with a chorus of wet sounds, ruthless. He wraps his legs around Eddie’s waist so that his hands are free to roam over his back, his shoulders, hook around his neck to pull him in for another kiss. It throws Eddie off balance a little, makes it harder for him to fuck into Richie, but it’s worth it for how close he can get, how his stomach can brush against Richie’s, separated by that soft, sheer fabric. 

“I never would have thought about this,” Eddie says breathlessly, voice breaking as he grinds his hips into Rich, pushes his cock in deep. “This isn’t something I ever thought about but _god,_ you’re gorgeous, you look so good for me. So pretty for me.”

Richie’s eyes well up with hot tears behind his glasses, overwhelmed and heart-stoppingly happy, and so fucking grateful that Eddie does this for him, that Eddie wants him like this and never laughs at him or makes him feel embarrassed for wanting things. He just, he fucking loves Richie no matter what stupid ideas come out of his mouth and he’s so happy, Richie’s so happy and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. 

“Hey, don’t cry, it’s okay,” Eddie says, thumb swiping under the edge of Richie’s glasses. He pants out harsh breaths against Richie’s face, hips moving relentlessly, lighting him up. “Do you want to come? Richie, do you want to come on my cock?”

“Yeah,” Richie says, squeezing Eddie’s hips between his thighs, arching into every thrust as he clings to him. “Yeah, please.”

“Come on, baby, come for me. I want you to come for me.” Eddie shifts his weight, moves one hand to wrap his fingers around Richie’s cock and pump him fast and ruthless. 

Richie moans sharply, the pleasure singing through his body in a way that’s almost painful, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. “Eddie,” he sobs, “please, please.”

“You’re doing so good, you look perfect like this, just come on, come all over yourself for me.”

Richie barely gets a chance to respond, his answering whine getting cut off with the intensity of his orgasm as it rips through him. He sobs, hips bucking, and holds Eddie tight against him as he shudders through it, come splattering across his stomach and the fabric that covers it. 

Eddie gives a few last hard, sharp thrusts and comes with a shout, warm come spilling inside him. Richie moans with him, feels it ripple through him, and grunts as Eddie slumps against him, panting. Richie listens to his own thundering pulse and holds him as he feels Eddie’s cock throb inside him, sliding his palms up and down his boyfriend’s sweat-slick back, rubbing one finger between his ass cheeks as Eddie whines. 

“You got your outfit all covered in come,” is the first thing Eddie says after he catches his breath, voice hoarse. 

Richie grins, head thrown back against his pillow. “We can wash it,” he says. “I made sure.”

Eddie laughs softly against his chest. “Did you like your reward?” 

“I liked it a lot,” Richie tells him, as if he didn’t already know. 

“Good,” Eddie hums sleepily. 

It’s silent for a few moments, save for their slightly laboured breaths, and then Richie says, very quietly, “Thanks, Eds. Seriously.”

“Rich.” Eddie pushes himself up a bit to look at him, and Richie chews on his lip. “You dumbass. I obviously liked it.”

Richie shrugs bashfully. 

“And even if I didn’t, I’d try it for you,” Eddie says. “You know that.”

“I know,” Richie mumbles, stroking up and down his sweaty back. “Did you know that I love you?”

Eddie snorts. “Yes.”

“I really do.”

“I know.” Eddie kisses his cheek softly, and then his mouth. “I love you too. And you look _really_ hot right now, by the way. If I could fuck you again right now, I would.”

Richie grins against his mouth, and squeezes Eddie’s hips between his thighs. “Just stay here instead,” he says, with only a little embarrassment. “In me.”

Eddie hums, and slumps against him. “Just for a little bit,” he says, but Richie feels his cock give a feeble twitch inside him. “Because it’s comfortable.”

“Mhmm.” Richie grins against the side of his head. “Consider it part of my reward.”

“Okay,” Eddie says.

Richie walks his fingers up Eddie’s back. “Hey,” he says. “Do you think this would fit you?”

Eddie snorts. “Absolutely not.”

Richie grins. “Maybe we could get you your own, then.”

Eddie is quiet for a long moment, long enough for Richie to start getting nervous, and then he just says, “I’ll ask Bev what colour would look good on me.”

God, Richie loves him _so much._ “Yeah. Thank god for Bev.”


End file.
